


why'd you only call me when you're high?

by sexualthorientation (sexyscholar)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hipster!Loki, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Soft Nerd!Thor, bottom!Thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2645492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyscholar/pseuds/sexualthorientation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Nerd Thor gets a bad mark on a test. It's never happened before, but Loki was fucking him hard the night before and all Thor could think of was how much his ass hurt and how he couldn't wait to do it again. He has a full scale melt down and pouts for days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	why'd you only call me when you're high?

**Author's Note:**

> So, soft nerd!Thor x edgy!Loki has become a thing on my [Tumblr](http://thorodinsson.co.vu/tagged/nerd-thor-and-biker-loki). It's been plaguing my mind for the longest time, so I finally tried to write it. 
> 
> I blame a head cold, NyQuil, Arctic Monkeys, and [Goose](http://thunderbara.tumblr.com/) for this shlock. 
> 
> This is dedicated to Goose.
> 
> (Unbeta'd and written on my phone -- I tried to clean up my mistakes, but if you spot something, please let me know. 
> 
> Also, comments and concrit are life to me. Don't be shy. <3)

It takes a good few minutes for Thor to recognize that the chirpy little noise he keeps hearing is not in a dream, but in fact, coming from his phone.

Bleary-eyed with drool smeared against his cheek, he twists his heavy-feeling head toward the nightstand. When a few exaggerated blinks don't reveal the time displayed in glowing red squiggles on his alarm clock, Thor fumbles for his glasses for a second before shoving them on his face.

_2:14 AM_

People don't call at two in the morning unless something has gone horribly wrong. He sits up in bed, picks up his phone, and taps the screen to check his incoming messages. Six new texts and three missed calls.

All from Loki.

Thor's stomach drops. His skin chills and sweats at the same time, and when the phone suddenly buzzes and chirps to life in his palm, Thor jumps.

**loki calling**

He jams his thumb on the answer button harder than he really needs to. He doesn't bother with 'hello.' "Loki, is that you? What's wrong?"

"Finally," Loki's voice slides in from the other end of the phone. "God, I've been calling you for-fucking-ever. What took you so long?"

Loki sounds dazed and a little dopey, but otherwise seems...normal. "I was sleeping," he answers. _What else would I be doing?_ he doesn't say. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fiiiine," he says, quickly followed by a giggle.

"A-are you drunk?"

"High," he corrects. "Darcy brought over _special brownies._ "

"Why are you with Darcy at two in the morning," Thor snaps before he can think better of it. He cuts over Loki's _because she doesn't go to bed at eight-thirty like some people_ , and says, "So, there's nothing wrong. You're actually fine. I was--goddammit, Loki--"

On the other end of the line, Loki has stopped nagging. "...Were you worried about me?"

Thor stammers; he didn't think Loki was actually listening. "I--you left _nine_ messages, Loki! Nine. People don't do that unless there's some emergency. Not sane people, anyway."

Loki laughs again. "You _were_ worried about me. Aw, that's so fucking cute. Here, let me make it right," he says, his voice low and softer. "Why don't you get on Skype, and I'll show you how fine I am?"

Thor blushes immediately. The last time they 'skyped,' he'd let Loki talk him through using his fingers to stimulate his own prostate, seeing him to the end with encouraging words and _even more encouraging video_ of him stroking himself in time with Thor's probing digits. The climax that followed -- once he'd gotten the hang of it and finally took Loki's advice to stop being so uptight and just _let go_ \-- had taken him by surprise: he hadn't laid a finger on his cock, but it that didn't stop it from pumping out hot streaks of cum that arced backward and landed on his heaving chest in long splatters.

So it's not so crazy that he actually considers Loki's idea for a second. Loki sounds warm and husky and full of promise over the phone, and his body is beginning to respond. Like a salivating dog to the ring of the dinner bell, Thor's prick is up and hungry.

"Let's play a game," Loki tells him. His voice abruptly sounds hollow and farther away, like he's switched over to speakerphone. "Guess what I'm doing right...now." Thor can hear the dull metallic purr of a zipper being pulled, and then a pause, quickly followed by a shuddering breath. "Mmm, can you guess, Thor?"

Thor gnaws at his bottom lip as the needy little whines coming from the phone make his dick twitch. He doesn't have to guess what he's doing -- he knows, and his underwear are getting rather snug as he conjures a mental picture of Loki masturbating for _him_. Thor quickly crosses his legs.

"No," he finally says, firmly. "You're high, you woke me up, and I've got a calculus exam tomorrow; I'm hanging up now."

Thor takes the phone from his ear -- he can hear Loki's tinny, plaintive _aw, don't be mad, Thor_ on the other end as he disconnects.

He waits a long moment, half-expecting Loki to call again. When he doesn't, Thor switches over to his messages - because he can't just leave six texts sitting there bold and unread - and opens up the conversation with Loki--

 **you up?**  
**hey thor**  
**thooor**  
**im so hard**  
**thor come on**  
**wanna fuck you**

The heated flush in Thor’s face moves down his neck to bloom across his chest as he reads the string of messages over and over. He sets the phone back on the nightstand and looks down at his crotch. "He sends a few dirty texts, and you're reduced to this?"

When his erection stirs again, gently shifting the flannel covering it, Thor reckons he has his answer. He sighs.

It would be so easy to slip his hand into his pajamas and work himself over. Loki's texts are enough to get him going on their own, but coupled with the memory of their Skype session, fresh and hot in his mind... he could just...

He shakes his head quickly, setting his hands down on either side of him and rubbing his palms on the nubby sheets. He scoots himself back into bed, turns onto his stomach, slides both arms beneath his pillow, far enough away to do anything _stimulating_ , and wills his hard-on to go away. He knows it's probably just an exercise in wishful thinking, but it certainly can't hurt (any more than this cock digging into his mattress does, at least) to give it a try.

~

Thor is juggled out of his light doze when the new sound finally starts to filter through, his body feeling tingly-weird and not quite solid. He groans and covers his head with a spare pillow, but it doesn't do much good; it's hot and hard to breathe under there, and it doesn't block out the horrible yowling outside his window.

Thor pulls himself out of bed, gets his glasses again, and stumbles over to the blinds, twisting the baton to peel them open. He's expecting a cat, or some other nocturnal critter, maybe perched on one of the high branches of the enormous oak tree that sits outside his house, but -- it's Loki. Gorgeous, pale, high Loki - standing under the porchlight. He grins up at Thor, then opens his mouth and...

_...meows._

"You've got to be kidding," Thor says to himself.

Loki, standing down below, certainly doesn't appear to be kidding -- he yowls again, long and loud, and Thor raises the pane of glass.

"Loki," he stage whispers, leaning out the window. "Are you trying to wake up the whole house?"

His answer is another yowl - unbelievably, louder than the ones preceding it - and Thor pinches the bridge of his nose. There's only one thing for it, he knows.

He tiptoes out of his room and makes his way downstairs.

~

Loki is flushed pink and smiling toothily when Thor opens the door. He's leaning against the door frame, looking relaxed and impossibly long, and Thor swallows hard as he gets a good view of him. He's dressed in _tight_ black jeans and flimsy white t-shirt with a too-loose neck: it hangs to the side, showing off a sliver of creamy skin and sculpted collarbone. There are greyish circles at the armpits (it's unseasonably warm for October, and Loki sweats).

"Took you long enough," he says, crossing the threshold without bothering to wait for Thor's official invitation. Jade green eyes trail down, then back up Thor's body, and Loki grins again, looking pleased. "Fuck, you look good enough to eat."

Thor doesn't have a chance to answer before Loki's mouth is on his. He tastes chocolatey, and faintly herbal.

Thor's never tried marijuana, but he knows kids at school smoke (and he's pretty sure his mom and dad still do sometimes), so he knows how it smells - and by extension - sort of, how it tastes. He doesn't particularly like it, but he very much likes Loki kissing him like this, all sloppy and rushed and breathing so hard it fogs his glasses.

It isn't until Loki's turned them so Thor's back is to the wall, his lean thigh is wedged between Thor's meatier ones, and he's got one hand fiddling with the drawstring of his pajama bottoms that it dawns on Thor that _he's supposed to be mad, dammit._

"You woke me up _twice_ tonight, Loki," he tells him, shoving him back.

When Loki doesn't react aside from a couple of owlish blinks, Thor angrily holds up two fingers to Loki's face. "Twice!"

It backfires when Loki merely leans forward and licks the web of skin connecting his fingers. His tongue is pink and perfect against Thor's skin and he shudders as Loki's mouth slides up, wraps his lips around both fingers and sucks back down. After licking the digits for what feels like an eternity, he pulls off with a hollow pop. "Let's fuck."

"Loki--"

"You're so hard, Thor. I bet your ass is practically twitching for my dick right now," Loki says, too loudly for Thor's comfort.

He clamps a big hand over Loki's mouth and yips when he feels Loki lick his palm with the broad flat of his tongue before bursting into a peal of giggles.

"Admit it," Loki orders, a wolfish smile on his pretty mouth. "You want it up your ass so bad, don't you?"

Thor scrubs his hand down his face, quickly forgetting that Loki's gummy spit is still on his palm. He makes a face, and Loki laughs again. "Yes, okay? I do. But I've got an exam tomorrow, and my parents are sleeping. I can't--"

Loki presses a finger to Thor's lips, shushing him. He won't give up that easily. He never does.

"You'll ace it, like you do every-other-fucking-thing, and as for your parents, well." Loki dips his hand into the waistband of Thor's pajamas again, this time passing the knotted ties and going into the front of his (very damp and presently? too-tight) underwear. "We'll just have to make a concerted effort to be quiet, won't we?"

He curls his long fingers around Thor's length and squeezes gently. Thor makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat and hunches forward. "Fuck," he says softly, against the blond hair that's slipped into his face.

Loki dips down a little, under the fall of hair, then comes back in close to give Thor a surprisingly chaste kiss on his lips. "So...are we gonna fuck or what?" The hand in Thor's underwear strokes his cock _just so_ and it's so good that it has Thor seeing double for a second.

He never had a chance, and he knows it.

"Upstairs," he says.

~

Once they're in Thor's room (with his fancy new privacy lock on the door), Loki wastes no time getting out of his clothes - not that he was wearing very many. The damp white shirt, super skinny black jeans, and worn grey sneakers are in a small heap on the floor. He hasn't bothered with underwear.

He climbs up on to Thor's bed and kneels, cock in hand, stroking it hard and wringing the head to force a few beads of slick from the tip. Loki is long and lean and pale, and the moonlight filtering through the window makes him look a little like the wood nymphs Thor's read about in mythology books.

He doesn't say any of that to Loki, though.

Instead, Thor kneels up on the bed with him and slinks an arm around his narrow waist to pull him flush for a kiss. It starts with a simple slide and mash of lips, but quickly gives way to something wilder: Loki slides his hand along the nape of Thor's neck and _pulls_ , biting and licking his way into his mouth.

Thor's free hand goes to the newly shaved side of Loki's head, thumb brushing against the bristling hair. He likes the new look, especially the way it highlights Loki's sharp cheekbones, but he misses the feeling of all of it (as opposed to the half that's left of it) sliding like cool black silk through his fingers.

He breaks away from Loki's mouth - a string of saliva glistens between them for a second before it snaps - and then dips south to the silver ring that runs through Loki's left nipple. It seems like it should hurt -- the soft, fleshy, peach-brown nub is swollen and tender-looking, but when Thor slides the tip of his tongue through the circle and tugs, Loki bucks deliciously against his body and hisses out his pleasure, curling his fingers deep into Thor's hair. His other hand is still on his cock, stroking through the heated exchange. More than once, the head of his cock bumps up against Thor's flanneled thigh.

"Get naked, " Loki says, looking up and tossing the one half of his long black hair off of his shoulder. "Slow; I wanna watch."

Thor nods, privately delighting in the tiny shiver that ripples through him at the request. He moves backward until he's off the bed and stands facing Loki. He starts with his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and folding it in half before he hangs it over his desk chair.

He flexes a little, taking in a deep breath and broadening his big chest for Loki's benefit. Thor works out, but never very hard - he's been blessed with good genes and high metabolism. (One of Coach Tyr's greatest sorrows is that Thor has the body of a linebacker and the coordination of a duck in wooden shoes, which is to say, none at all.)

Loki does seem pleased with the display, if the way he licks his lips and strokes himself a little faster is any indication. "Keep going," he says.

Which Thor was totally going to do anyway, but he likes it when Loki tells him to.

The pajama pants come down next, showing off hard, muscled thighs. He steps out of them, and handles them as he did the shirt - fold, then hang.

Loki's eyes rake down his body, then stop somewhere around his legs. "Huh."

It's not the reaction Thor's expecting. "What?"

"You're wearing knee socks."

Thor looks down and, sure enough, he'd forgotten to take the off before he went to sleep. He does it all the time, but now that Loki's looking at them and grinning like they're the silliest things he's ever seen, Thor's starting to feel more than a little self-conscious about them.

"Huh, yeah," he says, trying for humor. "I don't even know why I wear them - they're kinda dumb." Thor's rambling and he knows it, but he's suddenly nervous because it's just one more reminder that Loki is _cool_ and he is _not_. He bends down to take them off

"Keep them on."

Thor looks up, confused. "Why?"

Loki bites his lower lip and shrugs. "I like them; they're kinda hot. Please?"

It's not often that he gets a 'please' out of Loki. Thor doesn't touch the socks.

He does, however, touch his red boxer briefs and ease the waistband down past his hips. Then a little more, revealing the start of a light brown vee of pubic hair.

"Lower," Loki says, setting one hand in the bed and leaning forward. "Show me."

Thor swallows and then pushes the underwear past his cock, which bobs up and out almost immediately. He can barely hear Loki's _'oh fuck yes'_ over the rush of blood around his ears.

He carefully steps out of the underwear and, unlike his other clothes, tosses them into his laundry hamper. They're all but ruined, anyway.

When he looks back, Loki has stopped stroking himself in favor of crawling down the length of the bed. He gets to the edge, ducks his head a little, and takes Thor's cock into his mouth in one smooth swallow. Thor has to bite the heel of his hand to keep from screaming.

To say that he's kind of good at this is like saying Stephen Hawking is 'kind of good' at physics. Loki is a dick-sucking _genius_ , flicking his tongue this way and that, hollowing his cheeks and humming as his lips slide up and down the shaft.

Loki braces himself with one arm and slides his free hand between Thor's thighs, running his damp fingers over Thor's balls and rolling them gently for a moment before slipping one finger farther back and between his ass cheeks. He doesn't push in, simply the rubbing the pad of the probing digit against Thor's tightly furled hole, but it's enough to get Thor to shift and spread his legs a little.

Loki pulls off Thor's prick. "Lube?"

"I-in the usual place."

He slides back up the bed and pulls open the drawer to Thor's nightstand. The bottle of lube rolls to the front and Loki scoops it out. He squirts a good amount on his fingers, coating them in the slippery stuff, and comes back to Thor. He retakes his position, sucking Thor's cock into his greedy mouth while he works one of his slicked fingers up into Thor's ass.

The sensation is so good, and hits him so suddenly, that the wind is knocked out of Thor. He lets a long breath out, then a shorter, shuddering one back in. "Oh, Loki. God."

Loki laughs, or something a lot like it -- Thor can feel the quick huffs of air skim over the base of his cock, and then pushes in a second finger.

Thor has to grip the back of the desk chair to keep from falling over. His legs are spread wider now, bending slightly at the knees to try to take Loki's fingers deeper. He realizes, dimly, that he's standing on his tiptoes a little - there's some muscle tension in his calves, but the angle that Loki's fingers are hitting is too sweet to stop now.

"You ready," Loki asks when he comes up for air again. "You sound ready."

"Yes," answers Thor. "I'm ready, Loki, fuck me..."

Loki pulls his fingers free, and Thor whines softly. "You're getting so much better at articulating what you want, Thor. I'm proud of you. Turn around, put your hands on the desk."

Thor doesn't hesitate; he spins around, nearly losing his balance when he knocks into the chair, but manages to catch himself before he falls. He can hear Loki in the nightstand drawer again, rummaging. If he saw Thor's less than graceful turn, he doesn't say anything about it.

The next thing he hears is a rip of foil, and the funny little peeling sound of plastic. The bottle of lube squirts again, and then the unmistakable slap of skin on wet latex.

Thor jerks when he feels the hot press of lips to the spot between his shoulder blades, followed by a questing tongue moving down his spine. Loki's little voyage down Thor's broad back ends with a good, meaty bite on his right buttock. He does an admirable job of not yelling out loud.

Loki stands behind him, one hand gripping into his hip while the other slides his now-sheathed cock between Thor's cheeks. "Spread your legs wider for me," he tells him.

Thor does, and Loki pushes the wide head of his cock to Thor's hole. He doesn't go in - he just keeps pressing like that, and it's enough to drive Thor a little bit insane. " _Fuck me_ ," he grits out.

"Ooh, I like it when you get all demand-y, Thor."

"Don't patronize me, Loki -- you got me all... like this, now come on an--agh!"

Loki shoves in all at once, and Thor sinks down to the desk, breathless. The burn is incredible -- Thor sees nothing but red and violet and blue for a few seconds as he adjusts. To his credit, Loki holds still, simply running his hands in smooth, soothing circles over his back.

"Okay," Thor says, nodding. "I'm good. You can move."

He probably isn't as ready as he _should be_ , but he wants to be fucked so deeply that he's willing to fake it a little. And he gets his wish -- Loki starts to move, and the burn picks up again, unbearable and amazing all at once. Thor grips the edge of the desk for dear life, biting his lips to try to hold in the tiny whimpers that just won't _stay put._

Loki must sense that something is off; he slows mid-slide and squirts more lube directly onto Thor's stretched hole, easing out a little more, and then back in. Thor can feel the lube sliding into his ass, making the whole business so much easier, and Thor finally begins to feel comfortable enough to bear down as Loki pushes in.

"Oh, oh _god_ ," Thor whispers.

Loki leans down, pressing his chest to Thor's back. "Fuck, you feel so perfect, Thor. You were made for this."

As raw pleasure snakes up his spine, and under and into a coil in the pit of his stomach, Thor is inclined to agree. He's never known anything like this - Loki fucking him out of his busy head, hard and hot. It feels like this is the way it's supposed to be and, in this moment, he's going to take everything that Loki can give.

"Do it harder, Loki," he whispers. "Make me come."

Loki growls against Thor's shoulder. "Lie down on the desk, all the way." When he does, Loki pins Thor's arms behind his back and uses his wrists as handles to pull Thor back against him, and _fucks_.

Thor tries to be quiet, he really does. But Loki is going hard now, so hard that his glasses finally slip off the sweaty bridge of Thor's nose and land on the desk with a clack. His own prick is nudging against the underside of his desk, and that's probably going to hurt like hell later, but for now it's fucking brilliant.

Loki is panting above him, thrusting up hard into Thor and hitting that spot that makes Thor want to fly apart and be put back together, only to be broken apart again.

He's so close now; his skin is prickling everywhere and the coil in his belly is about to snap. Thor thinks that if his parents haven't already figured out what going on in there, they're about to get an earful, because Thor doesn't think he's going to be able to _not scream_.

"Loki," Thor says, "I'm so close -- make me come. Please." He thinks he might be crying a little. He's way past caring.

"God, Thor. I wish you could see yourself -- you take my cock so good."

 _Well_ , Thor thinks. _I take your cock so well._

He's going to let that one go, though. Thor can pick his battles, and now is not the time, because--

"Oh fuck, Loki," he gasps. "I'm--!"

But the word never makes it past his lips; Loki apparently has just enough presence of mind to let go of one of Thor's wrists and clamp a hand over Thor's panting mouth. Thor screams out his climax directly into Loki's palm, him cock pumping out hard streams of cum that seem to go on forever...

 _...and all over the floor. How do you get cum out of berber?_ , he wonders idly. He'll have to research that.

Once the strongest part of his orgasm passes, Thor gives Loki's palm a lick of his own.

Loki seems to like it, though. He lets out a long, low moan, gives three more good, hard thrusts, and then Thor can feel him coming deep inside. The condom swells with its heavy payload.

After they've both come down, and Loki's tied off his rubber and trashed it, Thor gathers Loki up into his arms and plops him on the bed. He snuggles in close, his chest to Loki's back, and is pleasantly surprised that Loki allows it.

"How's your ass," Loki asks.

Thor laughs softly. "Sore. It's gonna hurt like hell tomorrow."

"Yeah, well it should. I fucked you good. "

Okay, so maybe he can't let it go.

"Well."

Loki turns over a little to face him." Well what?"

"You fucked me _well_."

Loki's mouth thins. Then after a long moment, he says, "Shut up, nerd."

But he's laughing, so Thor does, too.

~

During math period, Thor stares blankly at his calculus test. He knows this stuff, he _does_ , but he can't concentrate on it for most than a few minutes at a time.

What he is concentrating on instead, is how much his ass hurts. Thor can't sit still, and he's squelched so much hemorrhoid cream in there that he's legitimately concerned about it leaking out and making a mess.

The thought of leaking and mess leads him right back to the night (well, early morning) before, to Loki's cock, to how good it felt to take it hard and deep.

Within seconds, he's hard again and desperate to be fucked. He's meeting Loki at the coffee shop later, maybe they could sneak away--

"Pencils down," Mr. Heimdall declares from the front of the classroom.

Thor shakes himself back to reality and looks down at his test paper; there’s a distressing amount of blank space. He comes up with at least four mostly plausible excuses as to why he needs a retest. In the end, though, he can't bring himself to try any of them. He simply lets the teacher pick up his test as he walks by and doesn't look at him for the rest of the period.

At the end of the day, the teacher stops by his locker.

"Thor, could you stay behind for a few minutes? I'd like to talk to you about your test."

Thor nods and looks at his own shoes. He still can't bring himself to look Mr. Heimdall in the face.

~

A sixty-eight.

_A sixty-eight._

Thor glares at the test in his hand. The number is penned in blue ink, tucked innocently in the upper right corner, but it might as well be streaked across the entire page in thick, bright red.

Thor's never gotten a grade lower than eighty-five. In anything. Appropriately, he's completely distraught about it and in a full pout when Loki slides in on the other side of the booth.

"Hey sexy," he says. When Thor doesn't respond, Loki pokes him in the arm. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," Thor moans, flipping over his test results to show Loki.

Loki shrugs. "What about it?"

Thor is incredulous. "Look at my _grade_ , Loki!"

His eyes follow to the corner of the page. "So? You passed, right?"

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is the point?"

Thor adjusts his glasses and takes a deep breath - not that it helps. "This is a D, Loki. I have never gotten a D in my life."

Loki's eyes widen and the side of his mouth twitches. "I don't know about that, Thor. You seemed to take mine pretty well last night."

Thor looks at him, perplexed, and it's not until Loki nearly falls off of his seat that he realizes what he's said. His cheeks pink immediately.

"That's not what I meant," he argues over Loki's snickering. "And it was your… _that_ that got me into to this mess!" He looks around the coffee shop to see if anyone is watching them. "I was so sore from last night," he says, quietly, "that I couldn't concentrate."

"I only did what you asked," Loki says cheerfully before dipping an end of his biscotti into his cup of coffee and then making a show of sucking on it. Thor's cock stirs without his permission. He really is like Pavlov's dog, and Loki loves ringing that bell. "Just ask for a retest. They'll give it to you; they love you."

Thor sighs. "Mr. Heimdall said he would. But just the fact that I even have to take a _retest_..."

Loki rolls his eyes. "Tell you what -- we'll go to my house, and I’ll give you a practice test.” He leans in close. “And incentives.”

Thor smiles, in spite of himself. "What kind of incentives?"

"I'll pat you on the head and tell you what a smart boy you are while you suck _my_ dick. Sound good?"

 _Yes_ , Thor thinks. _That sounds very good, indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Arctic Monkeys' [song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6366dxFf-Os). :)


End file.
